The Draak
by Ahrk
Summary: Something has happened, something that will stretch far from Elicoor II, with Albel caught in the middle. Eventual FxA. *On Hiatus*
1. It Begins

The Draak

Music theme for part one: Linkin Park – My December

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He had always hated Airyglyph.

He didn't know when he had truly started to hate his birthplace, but it hadn't been a sudden revelation. As far as he knew, he hated the cold, he hated the stone walls, and he hated the plain, crumbling buildings that crept closer to collapse with every harsh winter. He hated the snow especially. He hated it when it clumped on the streets, turning disgusting shades of dirty brown and green. He hated when the snow landed on his hair and melted, getting his head wet. He hated when the snow landed on his metallic appendage, staying as cold and beautiful as snowflakes could be. Snow never melted when he held out his claw, and always he would clench his claw in anger and destroy the white on the metal.

Albel shivered, shaking his hair free of excess snow and trudged away from the inn. It was some odd hour of the night, and no one was out. Just the way he preferred it. The villages still cowered at his passing. Not that he didn't enjoy it, but his traveling companion seemed to find it annoying. He would never truly understand why the blue-headed fool decided to stay on Elicoor II and travel with him, but deep down, Albel knew that no matter how many times he called Fayt 'fool' or 'maggot', the young man wouldn't take him seriously and would remain nearby to give him sword and symbology.

There was something about the young man that gave Albel a severe tick in his eye. He was intelligent, yes, Albel admitted. He could compute complex problems as if they were magically writing themselves out in the air. He was constantly bombarded by that damn ringing abomination signaling calls from their comrades, out somewhere deep in space. Albel shivered from his memory of space. Too much space. Elicoor II was plenty large enough for Albel to have a full life of walking around and killing things. That was all he seemed to do these days. He was searching for something, something that would point him towards his true meaning of life.

No matter what he was searching for, Fayt offered to help him find it. That unnerved him to no end. It was none of the boy's business, so why did he seek to aid the captain's goal? When they first met, he wasn't exactly nice to Fayt and his travelers, back when it was believed they were from Greeton. Fayt actually had some backbone and humiliated Albel after his… crushing… defeat. Albel clenched his teeth at the thought of that day. He had underestimated their strength. But he knew if he wanted to find the key to their strength, he'd have to follow them. He'll never know why they had come back for him in the dungeons. It was even colder in the dungeons than outside, so he was slowly turning blue with every day he spent chained against the wall. But they had returned, and he was to escort them through the old lava caves to talk to the King of Dragons. Why they thought he could do it, he'll never know. Just because he was the leader of the Dragon Brigade didn't make him a dragon expert. Upon finally meeting Crosell, Albel could hardly contain his surprise. How could anyone defeat, much less befriend the damn beast? Another great surprise came when they _did _defeat the dragon. Albel assured himself he had gotten stronger, but he had a feeling in the back of his mind that Crosell really wanted to be of use.

Albel was hardly surprised when they took off in their large flying ship. They had finally found a way off the planet, so why should they have stayed? He grew angry, and had traveled to the Kirlsa Training Facility to be alone. But being alone never seemed to work with Albel. He could never find solace in being alone. Just having someone nearby was enough to give his soul some peace. Ever since the incident with his father, he hated being alone. It only led to thinking about that day, which angered Albel further. What he needed, as he reached an understanding, was to be part of _their _group again. This became convenient, as they had come back to the training facility. He didn't know nor care why they were back, just as long as he could be near and of use.

He really didn't understand why he had jumped in front of that shot. Call it pure insanity. He was known as Albel the Wicked, feared across three nations. Why did he save those annoying maggots? He must admit, they really trusted him after that. It was easy to please them. Save them from an enemy shot, and they offer to be your underlings for life.

Albel took a deep breath, watching his exhale coil in white fog in front of him. This was one thing that he enjoyed from being in Airyglyph. Every other town was in a warmer state, so watching your breath escape you was a pleasure you could find only in the snowy capital. Fayt had offered to explain _how_ he could his breath, but Albel had growled at the thought of another confusing lecture and simply waved him off, throwing over his shoulder as he left that he needed a drink.

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The dark entrance of the tavern looked inviting, the candles flickering through the icy windows. Albel wrapped his traveling cloak tighter around himself, shivering. He really hated Airyglyph at night. It was colder, and his choice of attire was not best suited for that low of a temperature. And the damn snow was making his leggings wet around his shins. They had received a lovely snowfall as soon as they had entered the capital, and so a lovely blanket of damn snow had covered what little they could see of the roads. It had been pushed back away from the doorways of the buildings, but the snow was proving insistent and recovering the steps all over again.

Albel slipped on his way into the tavern, growling to himself. A warrior such as himself should not be slipping. It was very embarrassing, and he was glad that it had happened before he had opened the door. With a shove, he worked the door open and pushed it closed behind him, noting the terror-filled glances towards his arrival. Grinning to himself in his head, he made his way to the bar, unraveling his cloak around his shoulders. Giving an annoyed flick at his bangs to drop the snow collected on his hair, he ordered for hard ale.

Someone had not looked at him when he entered. He narrowed his eyes at the heavy-set shoulders, and he could make out gruff, dirty hands. This man was no ordinary man. He gave off a stony air of indifference, something that Albel admired somewhat. Not everyone could act like he had just strolled in as if it was only a small child. He clicked his claw around his drink and walked over towards the man. He noted the raspy breathing and the smell of blood instantly.

"What brings you to this fine tavern, I must ask?" he questioned politely. His voice could not drop that air of sarcasm though, something Fayt found tiresome in their conversations.

The man only grunted, and said nothing more.

Albel frowned. He had tried being polite. "That's very rude not to answer a captain, you realize."

Everyone else in the tavern had gone quiet.

When the man did not answer, Albel stood up. "I asked you a question, and you will answer me, you idiotic fool. Or do you not know who I am?" Albel could have sworn he heard a small chuckle from behind those shoulders. He grit his teeth, and struck out with his claw, shoving the man around in his chair. "I am Albel Nox of the Dragon Brigade, you _will_ answer me!"

For the first time, Albel saw the man's face. Deep scars trailed across his eyebrows down to his lower jaw, and one large one trailed down his eye, leaving a milky white orb glaring up at him. His other eye was a sharp yellow. He grinned suddenly. "Don't you mean the _former_ Dragon Brigade?"

Albel shook slightly with rage, but willed himself to calm down. "Just because I no longer stay in Airyglyph, doesn't mean I have lost my touch." He punctuated this by running his claw through the man's scars on his face, trailing the marred flesh. "I'd think twice before being a fool and getting me angry."

The man swatted his claw away from his face, and simply smiled apologetically. His eyes remained angry however. "Too sorry, _Captain_ Albel Nox. It will not happen again, I assure you." With that, he stood up, wrapped his coat around himself, and promptly left the tavern. Albel could still hear that damn chuckle.

Albel growled, roughly sitting down and finishing his drink. The nerve of the maggots here. Some believe he really had grown weak! The absolute nerve.

He grew so angry, his claw shattered his glass.

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Some odd hour later, he staggered out, clearly smashed. Albel could never really hold his liquor; his father had teased him about it when he had wanted to try his father's brandy. He had choked, and his father had laughed. He had glared at his father through his coughs, but his father had simply patted him on the head and remarked that he would like it when he was older.

Even now, the only kind he could actually stomach was ale. He couldn't remember how many glasses he had drunk, nor did he really care. He was too busy thinking about the next morning, which was what, several hours away? Fayt would not be pleased he had gone out and gotten drunk again. He could remember getting drunk in Peterny, but he couldn't remember how he had fallen asleep in the stables next to an extremely smelly horse rump. He blushed at the memory of how Fayt found him. He was only glad no one else had seen him sprawled over the horse's tail, snoring loudly. He had taken an extremely hot bath while Fayt continued to laugh for at least that entire morning. At least he didn't smell anymore.

He tripped in the same place on the stairs again, and only just caught himself before he fell face-first into the snow. He stuck his arms out to level himself, clearing his blurry vision. Good thing the inn was so close.

A growl erupted from the alley directly across from the tavern, and Albel stilled. His red eyes darted towards the location of the sound, his ears strained to hear more. He heard rough footsteps, and a pair of deep piercing eyes came into view. He put his hand on his sword hilt, but he had no idea how he was going to wield it in his condition. The best he could do was flail the sword around. His limbs weren't following orders. Even now, his claw hung limply at his side. It was too much work lifting the heavy appendage. _Why_ had he chosen metal?

A shadow, dark and heavy, sprang from the alley, and sudden sharp teeth clamped around his metallic gauntlet. Albel thrashed, pulling his sword out and roughly beating at the large creature piercing his armor. It took one shake, and the gauntlet split apart, Albel's damaged arm barely escaping the shreds of metal. It did not escape the creature's mouth, which simply switched from holding metallic arm to real flesh and blood. Albel screamed in pain, shoving at the creature's jaws, willing it to let go. He could feel the hot breath and a searing pain where the monster's teeth were imbedded in his flesh. The creature shook his shoulder, and a resounding crack from his arm made him yell out. He slipped in the snow and fell backwards, his back connecting with the wall of the tavern. The monster suddenly let go, charging for his head. He held up his sword just in time, impaling the creature through its shoulder. It roared in pain before roughly pulling back, nearly pulling Albel's other arm out of its socket, and sprinted away, clearing the bridge into town and fading into darkness beyond.

Albel panted, in shock. What the hell just happened? He looked at his arm, the one kept in the gauntlet for so many years. He could make out the deep puncture wounds oozing dark blood, and he hissed as he felt the nerves screaming at him. The damn thing had broken his arm. His other arm hung limply down in the snow, still holding his sword. The Sword of the Crimson Scourge. Its blade was covered in blood darker than his own, and as he lifted the sword back, it stuck to the snow, leaving at long, sticky trail. He wiped it in the snow several times, then sheathed it. He struggled to stand, his whole shoulder suddenly flaring up in pain. When he got to his feet, he noted the lights appearing in the windows. He didn't want to be seen. He ran as best he could, down alleyways and across slippery snow-covered roads. Where could he go?

A sudden erratic beat of his heart had him on his knees. He groaned, clutching at his chest. He could feel his heart beating out of tune. He gasped for breath, struggling to continue. He looked upwards, and immediately noticed the cave. That would do. He struggled up the mountainside, coughing up blood. What was happening to him? He gave a glance at his arm, which was turning black around the bite marks. He made it to the mouth of the cave, panting heavily. His heart gave another lurch, and he pitched forward, crying out in agony. Something was happening to him, but what? He didn't understand, and he was afraid.

Albel the Wicked screamed, his world going black from pain.

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The screaming in front of the tavern had nearly woken up the entire town. Fayt had jolted out of bed, blinking rapidly. He searched the bed next to his, and was shocked to not find the swordsman in it. Where was Albel? He threw the covers off, dressing quickly. The other patrons had opened their doors in alarm as he ran down the hallway. He cleared the stairs two at a time, and wrenched open the door. Stepping out into snowfall, he dragged his feet through snow to the small crowd standing around near the entrance of the tavern.

"What's going on?" he panted. An older man gave him a glance. "Somebody was attacked, or something. Sounded like they didn't make it. All that's left is their armor."

He stepped aside for Fayt to see, and the boy gasped. He'd recognize that metal claw anywhere. "Albel…" he said under his breath. He bent slowly and picked it up, staring as it hung lifeless from his grasp. There was no arm in it; there were no trails of blood on the metal. He narrowed his eyes at the deep tear marks in the metal. Something extremely strong had torn through Albel's armored gauntlet. He glanced around, looking in alarm at the blood spills everywhere. There was red blood, Albel's blood he surmised. But there was also a viscous black blood. Something non-human. He took a piece of Albel's shredded claw and carefully collected a sample. It stuck to the snow as he lifted, leaving a long trail as he pulled. Everyone groaned at the sight.

"This was the work of some demon?" a villager asked. "No, it was a monster; something came in while we were sleeping." "But do monsters really come into the town? I thought the guards were on patrol on the bridge to prevent that."

Fayt stood, pocketing the sample and walking towards the entrance. The guards, why hadn't he thought of that? They would have seen anything coming in or out. He stepped near the gate, noting with nervous breaths that it was already open. Had the creature come this way, or perhaps Albel? Had the creature taken Albel? Fayt worried even further. He shoved the door open, hearing the villagers crowd into the open space to get a good look.

Fayt breathed quickly, his heart beating fast. Where were the guards? Dawn was slow approaching, and darkness still loomed across the entrance to the capital. He shuffled forward slowly.

He hadn't expected to trip, but he fell. The villagers cried out in alarm as he landed. "Are you alright, son!"

Fayt groaned. "Yeah, I'm alright. Just tripped, that's all." He rubbed his injured arms, sitting up. He hadn't seen anything blocking his way. He turned to look. What he tripped over gave him reason to yell. He had found the guards.

They weren't guards anymore. Their throats had been slashed open, blood pooling around their shocked faces.

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He was alive. That was his first thought. He groaned, struggling to get up. His head pounded, each pulse bringing new pain. He was cold, and his clothes were shredded. His cloak lay nearby, tossed away as he rolled in agony. What _had_ happened to him? Was it all a dream?

Albel sighed softly. He was just so tired. He had alcohol in his system still, and he couldn't recall what had happened to him. He was attacked, and he ran, he had made it to the cave, but then what? Was it really a dream? He ran his hand through his hair, wincing as that hurt as well. His eyes focused on the light coming from the mouth of the cave. He could make out small white flakes drifting down. Nice to know the weather remained a constant in dreams or reality.

He placed his hand on the floor to get up, but paused. He never had feeling in his left arm before. All he felt before was metal. He glanced down, and his stomach did a flipflop.

His badly damaged arm still had the teeth marks.

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End part 1

We'll see how long I can keep this story going. I really should update my other story, but this just screamed at me to start writing. ;;


	2. A Painful Change of Clothes

The Draak: Part 2

Music theme for part two: Ours – As I Wander

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Fayt had stayed awake all night after the incident. He was extremely worried about his comrade. The soldiers at the castle had been summoned to investigate the corpses of the guards on the bridge, but Fayt knew something large and powerful had gouged out their throats before they even knew they were being attacked. He paced the room Albel and he had shared, his mind racing. Was Albel lost outside the city, injured and near death? Was he already dead? Fayt shook his head fervently; he refused to believe that Albel was gone. The man was just too powerful. _But, _his mind interjected, _whatever that thing was, it took out two Airyglyphan guards very easily._ He frowned at that thought. Since taking down Luther, the monster population had decreased down to the normal levels, and the monsters were no longer cause for concern. If they were, it was usually Albel and Fayt who were called, or even Nel.

Fayt idly wondered if Nel knew about such a creature as the one last night. He turned to stare at the sample of blood he'd collected and placed on the table. He crossed his arms over his chest. That was certainly not human blood. It wouldn't dry and become flaky like human blood. It remained a sticky black blob on the piece of Albel's armor Fayt had used. And that brought his thoughts back to the captain himself. He longed to know if Albel was alright; no one had seen him after he left the tavern. It seemed the creature had attacked him right after he left, from what he heard from the men in the tavern. They had also told of the man Albel had argued with. Fayt pondered on him as well. Who was he? Did he send a monster after Albel for upsetting him? Was he responsible? No one knew where that man had gone as well. Both Albel and the man had vanished from the city.

After finding the guards on the bridge, Fayt had returned to the tavern and gradually collected the remains of Albel's gauntlet. He supposed he would fix it later with the Craftsmen's Guild in the smithery. If Albel was alive, that is. Or maybe he would fix it anyway, to remember Albel… Fayt slapped himself. He really needed to stop acting like Albel was dead. He could be alive somewhere, but the evidence made Fayt's heart ache. Albel was his friend, whether Albel believed it or not.

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He must have drifted off, for the door banging open startled Fayt awake. He only just caught two long hair trails floating across his view from Albel's bed before the bathroom door slammed shut. He bolted up from the bed and ran to the door. "Albel! Are you alright! What happened?" He heard a growled reply of "Nothing!" and some cupboards being forcefully raided. "Do you need medicine? Are you hurt?" Fayt winced as he heard a cupboard door slam. "No, so just leave me alone damnit!" Fayt stepped back, hurt slightly at Albel's tone. But he was alive, and definitely himself. Fayt smiled at that thought.

"What happened last night in front of the tavern? Your screams woke up the entire town!" Fayt placed his ear to the door. He heard muttering and some louder curses, and the ripping of bandages. "It was nothing, so just shut up and leave me alone before I come out there and kill you!" Fayt sighed. He would just have to wait until Albel was ready to come out. He took a seat on Albel's bed again, his heart secretly happy that his friend wasn't dead. He was cranky, sure, but he was alive and cursing beyond the door. A cursing Albel was definitely better than a dead Albel, Fayt decided.

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It was nearly an hour before the door clicked open. Fayt immediately rushed towards Albel as he stalked out of the doorway. "Are you alright? What happened to your…" Fayt was about to ask about Albel's arm, but his question was answered by the extreme amount of bandages covering where the metallic appendage would have been. There wasn't any patch of skin showing anywhere. His bandaged covered arm was wiry, smaller than his normal arm. He still had the shoulder armor, but everything down had come off, including the hand piece.

"What? Are you done packing? I'm ready to leave this damn city." Albel started to walk towards the door, but stopped as he eyed his gauntlet. Fayt had placed the pieces on the table near the door. Fayt stared at Albel's back, wondering what he was thinking. The warrior lifted his bandaged hand, looking at his palm. He seemed to ponder his hand now that it was out in the open. Fayt stared at the bandages. How long had Albel kept his arm from being seen? What was wrong with his arm that he needed to wrap it entirely in bandages? Was the gauntlet meant to hide something? Scars, maybe?

Albel sighed and put his hand down. "…Hey, fool."

Fayt snapped back to reality. "Uhh, yes?"

Albel turned, and Fayt caught a glimpse of red eyes glowing faintly. 'His eyes never glowed before…' "I need my clothes repaired. We're going to Peterny."

"Your clothes?" Fayt asked stupidly. He looked down at Albel's attire, and saw immediately why Albel wanted to fix them. Everything was shredded. There were small bandages where Fayt supposed there were cuts, but the skirt was frayed and sliced apart, showing most of Albel's toned legs. His leggings were nearly gone, and his shirt had a large gash right through the middle, showing his bandaged torso. 'So that's why he took so long in the bathroom…'

"Yes, my clothes. I'd like to leave now if you don't mind," Albel griped. He reached for his cloak, but sharply turned his head as a knock came at their door. He pulled the cloak off the hanger roughly, shuffled immediately against the wall behind the doorjam, and covered his bandaged arm with his cloak. Fayt took that as a sign to answer the door himself. He crossed the room and gently pulled the door open, keeping his hand on the knob so as not to let the door smack Albel in the face.

There was a soldier standing outside. "Yes?" Fayt asked politely.

"Is this the room where Fayt Leingod and Captain Albel Nox are currently staying?"

"Yes, this is it. I'm Fayt, what seems to be the trouble?" Fayt saw Albel shudder against the wall, gripping his arm.

"The king wishes to see you immediately regarding the matter of last night's attack. He asks that both of you come as soon as possible."

"Uhh…" Fayt peered at Albel. What was wrong? Was he in pain? "We'll… be there shortly…"

"Thank you, kind sir." The soldier stepped away, saluted, and headed for the stairs.

Fayt pulled the door closed, finally seeing Albel. Albel gripped his arm under his cloak, gritting his teeth. He was in pain! "Albel, what's wrong? Are you bleeding?"

Albel growled, pulling himself from the corner to shove Fayt aside and head for the bathroom once more. As he passed, Fayt saw small traces of blood flowing down his arm.

"Albel, wait!" The door slammed shut before Fayt could get near. "Let me help you!" Albel was grunting in pain behind the wood barrier. "I don't need help, so lay off! Just get our things together!"

Fayt stared, half worried and half angry. Why wasn't Albel letting him help? They were comrades, they were friends. He wanted to make sure Albel was alright. He sighed, and began packing their things. They were going to see the king. Would he know about what attacked Albel and killed the guards? Fayt hoped to get some answers soon. It was bad enough that he stayed up all night worrying; now he was even more confused about what Albel's status was.

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It was another hour before Albel emerged again, this time the room cleared of all belongings, their two packs set up near the door. Albel stretched his neck, noting the sleeping teenager on his bed. Albel was still sore from this morning. And that damn bite was giving him aggravation. It had begun bleeding again while the soldier was here. Why it was bleeding dark blood, Albel will never know. Also, the part of his memory of his arm breaking seemed to be wrong. He could use it normally, as if the bone had never been cracked. He looked at his clothes, silently fuming at the thought of sewing them back together.

He walked over to the bed, watching the blue-haired boy slowly breathe in and out. Why was he offering to help so much? It was entirely none of his damn business. But, even before their last important battle with Luther, Fayt had still offered to help everyone. Why he chose to help Albel the most was the most confusing. And it was obvious from his lack of sleep during the night that he had remained awake waiting for Albel. Albel sat on the nearby bed and simply stared at the sleeping Fayt, thinking.

His eyes unfocused as he recalled the other night. It wasn't exactly easy to explain how or why he was attacked. The monsters surrounding the area were not strong like that, nor were they especially violent towards the townsfolk. And those eyes, Albel would always remember those eyes; deep, piercing, and almost hypnotizing. He unconsciously placed his hand over the bite wound, gritting his teeth. He would find whatever did this, he swore it. No person or animal attacked Albel the Wicked and lived to talk about it. That is, excluding his present company. This blue-haired boy was certainly interesting, Albel admitted that. He still had yet to find out the true reason Fayt decided to travel with him, especially over the company of that damn prissy brat who held a very big affection for him. Albel had not agreed with her from the first time they had met; she was just too... _happy_. Albel shuddered. Pink was the perfect color to describe that wench. She had not enjoyed Albel's company either. She always feared him, and that made him feel good. The others had forgiven his past, but she seemed to hold something against him. And when Fayt announced he was staying on Elicoor II with none other than Albel himself, she took it the worst. In some perverse way, Albel felt triumphant. He had won the silent battle between them; Fayt preferred _his_ company over even his childhood companion's.

But, as Albel leaned back on the bed to stare outside at the setting sun, he really did enjoy Fayt's company. Never mind the annoyance; everyone annoyed him. But none other than Fayt could drop the guard Albel had put up. He was not sure when he had started to trust Fayt; he had a feeling it began after that night in Peterny when the fair teen had sleepily assured Albel he didn't hate him. But Albel knew full well if he were ever to be in a dangerous situation, Fayt would immediately and without question guard his back. Albel smiled to himself. It reminded him of his brigade before the war had escalated. The soldiers obeyed him without question, eager to please their fearless captain.

After Vox had been slain, and his failures forgiven, Albel had been given the rule of both his Black Brigade and Vox's Dragon Brigade. He had simply compiled them into one, so the soldiers now were either air units or ground units. It was a well-thought idea; even the king praised him for it. But he had no desire to remain a soldier in Airyglyph; he struck a bargain with the king, who did not wish him to resign. He would remain the captain, but he would be free to travel the world. It was a simple goal, but it held so much potential for Albel to truly find his place. He had questioned his fate after the day his father was taken from him.

His second part of the bargain was that Fayt was to be allowed the right to travel alongside him, and not be questioned, held against his will, or taken from Albel's side. At this request, the king had leered at him quite strangely. Albel simply sneered, and the king agreed, but with an air of amused suspicion. The blue-haired teen simply blinked in confusion, before hurrying after the warrior as he roughly shoved the doors open. They had traveled for nearly three months now, circling the continent and finding new and strange things.

Fayt stirred; Albel immediately trained his gaze to the teen's eyes as they opened. Fayt groaned and sat up, rubbing his eyes free of sleep. "Albel…?"

Albel nodded once, and stood up. Fayt swung his body over to the side and stretched as he too stood up. "What time is it?"

"Late. Are you hungry?"

Fayt nodded, and Albel started for the door. He was about to shout for the keeper of the inn when he heard a loud gasp from behind. He turned, alert. "What is it!"

Fayt had his hand in his bangs, his face covered with guilt. "We were supposed to meet the king hours ago!"

Albel growled, dropping his guard. "I'm tired, I'm wet, and I'm hungry. The king can wait." He strode over to where his pack rested and began rifling through it. Fayt simply stared in shock. "But… aren't you going to get in trouble…?"

Albel shook with mirth. "Trouble? What could they possibly do to me?" He pulled out some warm clothes he always had but never wore. This was about the right time to wear them, with his usual garments in desperate need of repair. He began removing his armor, not noticing the blush on Fayt's cheeks. "They wouldn't be able to touch me. I'd kill them before they could even complain. The king knows we're still here. He can wait until we're damn ready."

He carefully worked his purple tunic off, pulling his hair trails through the neck hole. He then pulled the wool shirt on, grimacing at the feel of the material. He already missed his shredded clothes. He was about to start removing his boots, when Fayt gave a polite cough. Albel blinked, suddenly remembering he was not alone. He glared at Fayt. "You, bathroom. Now."

"Wha? Me? But you're the one who-.." Fayt heard that growl before it even started. "Okay, okay, I'm going! Geez.." The boy sighed, and trudged into the bathroom and shut the door. He heard the ruffling of clothing, and leaned against the door, his head down in thought. It seemed Albel was feeling better, that's for sure. But his arm… Fayt still wondered what Albel was hiding. And something else worried him further. After Albel had made the second retreat into the bathroom, Fayt looked more closely at the blood on the floor that had dripped from Albel's damaged arm. It was darker than it should have been…

He heard the disgruntled "Come out here" just barely, and turned to unlock the door. He took one look at Albel and stopped short.

The brigade captain was wearing a wool shirt, covered by a breastplate, which Fayt had never seen before. The shirt was tucked into black pants that widened near the bottom, giving room for hidden weapons above the same boots that Albel always wore. Around the man's waist was a belt with the Crimson Scourge securely fastened, and the shoulder armor that Albel wore on bare shoulders was back in place. The only major difference was the lone sleeve that covered the damaged arm, and the hand roughly bandaged until no skin was visible. Albel was frowning, pulling at the shirt collar uncomfortably. He still had his collar with the small bits of chain left on, which amused Fayt because he often thought of it as a dog collar; he'd imagined Albel breaking free and gnawing on someone's leg once. It wasn't his proudest moment when he burst out laughing at the katana-wielding warrior, especially when they were deep in discussion on how to get past a heavily guarded outpost into the region beyond. Albel had forbidden him to sleep in the same room for a week.

Albel gave an angry sigh of resignment, and threw the door open, scooping his pack up onto his good shoulder. "C'mon."

Fayt hurriedly threw his cloak on, pulling his pack over his back before hurrying down the stairs behind Albel. To himself, he reminded to get his universal communicator working so he could contact the others. He needed a high level research lab, something not found on Elicoor II.

If his hunch was correct, then something was very wrong with his companion. Something very wrong and very dangerous.

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End part 2

Weeee, bad second part, but very much needed for what's coming up. I dunno if I'm setting the characters up correctly. I hope that soon it won't matter, once the story really kicks off. If Fayt seems really OOC, just, never mind it, he's tough to pin down as far as temperament, seeing as he barely has one.


	3. The Council

The Draak: Part 3

Music theme for part 2: Star Ocean Till the End of Time OST – Reflected Moon (before you say anything, YES, I KNOW it's the theme for Aquaria Castle, but it fits damnit!)

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"Albel! Wonderful to see you… again…"

"…"

"…You changed your clothes."

"…"

"…Certainly a different look than your usual skirt and half-shirt."

Albel growled a 'shut up' and took the seat to the right of King Airyglyph. Fayt stood awkwardly, not quite sure where he should sit. There were council members seated around the majority of the table, most of them irritated they had to wait so long for the captain of the brigades to finally appear. He was used to the small meeting room in Arias; he had never sat through a meeting in Airyglyph Castle. He was still a bit uneasy of the atmosphere in the castle, and he refused to go near the dungeons. Images of the first time he was held captive in those dark damp cells flashed across his mind. And he then remembered that Albel spent some time down there as well, chained to the wall and awaiting his fate at Vox's hands.

Albel had finally noticed Fayt was standing near the door still, and barked at him to take the seat next to his. The blue-haired boy jolted and walked quickly to slide into the chair, putting his gloved hands on the table.

King Airyglyph nodded in their direction, and faced the others. "Now, this meeting has officially started. Woltar, would you please explain the events that occurred on the previous night?"

Woltar, sitting on the king's left side, stood up slowly, giving a shaky cough. He was growing older, and his skin looked sallow and wrinkled more than usual. After Albel had been appointed the captain of the Dragon and Black Brigade, he had organized his own brigade to be the castle guard; Albel's brigade had become the foot troops, so to speak. That gave Woltar access to becoming the king's advisor, which suited him perfectly.

"Yes, Your Majesty. Late last night, a few villagers heard a large monster attacking someone right outside the tavern. Upon inspecting the area, there were signs of a struggle, but no such clues as to where the victim had gone."

During this, Albel had clenched his hand over his damaged arm underneath his cloak. Fayt noted this out of the corner of his eye, but didn't say anything.

"And, as to the whereabouts of the monster, Master Fayt unfortunately found the bridge guards killed just after the incident occurred."

Fayt felt everyone's eyes on him, and his cheeks burned slightly. He felt the red gaze of the man next to him, and gave him a small glance. Albel looked almost… fearful? What was he afraid of? As soon as the swordsman realized Fayt was looking, he immediately put his head down, his hair covering his eyes.

"Thank you, Woltar. Now, we must bring into question as to how the creature overpowered our guards so easily and gained entrance to the city. The monster population in our region would not invoke such a powerful beast. What say you?" The king glanced around.

"Hmph. Doesn't matter where it's from, it just needs to be killed." Albel muttered. Fayt stared at his profile; Albel was refusing to look up at him for some reason. Fayt turned his eyes to the king, who had been looking at Albel with slight concern.

"It would be wise to first ascertain where it hails from, Albel, before we rush into something that could cost lives," the king silently scolded. Albel simply grunted, turning his head away slightly. Fayt noticed his hand was gripping his bandaged arm rather tightly, and his brows furrowed together in greater concern. As the men continued to council around them, he silently wished Albel would look at him. How was he to help the swordsman if Albel locked himself away? Was he forgetting that Fayt offered to be near him, to make sure he wasn't alone? Albel didn't have any friends on Elicoor II; Nel was always busy in her own country, training her subordinates and continuing her missions for the queen. Wait, that's it!

Fayt slid his chair out, standing up. That caused everyone to pause. "I move that we ask for Aquaria's assistance in this as well. With our combined knowledge and cooperation, we may be able to protect more people than if we tried to handle this ourselves."

Everyone in the council was murmuring, giving him incredulous looks. Ask for help from Aquaria? They already had to once, during the war when it seemed impossible to defeat the celestial ships. Many of the men still held grudges, Fayt noted. He glanced at the king. At least, it seemed King Airyglyph was giving it some thought.

"I second that."

Fayt swiveled his head in shock at Albel, who had remained quiet through all the chatting. He was agreeing with Fayt?

Albel raised his head finally, locking eyes with the king. "We need the strongest fighters we can get, and I believe Aquaria has several of them." He didn't turn his gaze to Fayt, who had finally sat back down, shock still written on his face. Albel was actually agreeing with his proposal… to ask for help…?

The king nodded. "Yes, it would be wise to have their warriors here as well. They may know something we don't about this creature, and the sooner we pool our resources, the sooner we can erect a battle plan against it."

The men at the table nodded their agreement, and King Airyglyph turned his gaze to Albel once again. "I will then ask that you head to the capital of Aquaria and see the queen. Please ask her to join us in a council. We shall hold it as soon as you return with news."

Albel simply nodded once, and stood up. He stepped around his chair, and began to walk out, Fayt beginning to follow.

"Oh, Master Fayt, one thing before you leave." Both men had paused, Albel near the doors to the chamber. Woltar motioned for the blue-haired youth to come near. "Albel, you may wait outside. This will take but a moment." Albel frowned, but did as told and stalked out.

Fayt came around the table, standing between King Airyglyph's chair and Woltar's. Woltar placed his hand on the young man's arm. "Both the king and I are concerned for Albel's well-being. We know it was him attacked outside the tavern. Our recon soldiers brought back a piece of his gauntlet from the snow. Now, I'm not sure what has happened, but I ask that you please keep a close eye on him. He never has been one to ask for help, and I'm doubly sure he needs it now."

Fayt nodded, glancing towards the king. Both these men cared for Albel; almost like an uncle and a brother. He understood why they would ask him of this, and he agreed wholeheartedly. The king had been writing on a piece of parchment, and had finished rolling it tightly, placing his seal on it. He handed it to Fayt, who took it and stowed it in the pack underneath his sword sheath. "Please give that to Queen Aquaria. It gives all the information on the creature we have so far."

Fayt bowed to the king, and walked around Woltar's chair to proceed out the door. Before he left the chamber, he heard King Airyglyph utter a small "Keep him safe" in his direction.

V

* * *

V 

Albel shifted, his back against the castle gates. What was taking them so long? He needed to leave now; his clothes weren't getting repaired just sitting in his pack. And his arm refused to stop aching. That damn bite wound was pulsing in tune with his heartbeat, and every pump of his blood sent more pain to his nerves. He couldn't even make a fist, let alone hold something. He hadn't held something with that hand for a long time though, so he wasn't that uncomfortable. What made him more uncomfortable was the look that Fayt kept giving him. Like he should be pitied. If there was one thing Albel Nox hated most, it was being pitied. It only proved that he had shown weakness, and should therefore be cared for like some stupid child.

Thinking of being a child sent him hurtling back to the days he trained with his father. His father was everything he couldn't be: strong, smart, and brave. He had plenty of men who would gladly give their lives to his cause, and plenty of women who wanted to be his wife. Not that his father had ever remarried or had other children. Albel could still remember the quiet nights he spent in his room, just laying there listening to his father weep for his beloved wife. Albel couldn't remember his mother. He hadn't even seen her face; she had died giving birth to him. His father always told him that she was watching over him, and that he should behave, otherwise his mother would be sad. Albel could only feel that her death was his fault. If he hadn't been born, she would still be there, smiling and laughing along with his father. His father wouldn't be so sad and lonely if his mother was still around.

The ceremony was the cause for his hatred. He could feel the disappointment, the shame, the absolute _pity_ that rolled off peoples' tongues when they spoke to him. It wasn't his fault. He shouldn't blame himself. He should be thankful he was alive. Deep in his core, there started a darkness, a hatred for everything. Including himself. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself the most.

He heard Fayt's voice from behind the gates, and shoved himself forward to start walking. "Let's get moving!" he yelled over his shoulder.

Hurried steps rushed behind him, and the blue-haired youth caught up to walk by his side. "We should really stock up on supplies first, Albel."

The swordsman scoffed. "Fine, then I'm getting myself a drink before we leave. I can't stand being sober and listening to you prattle on all day."

Fayt pouted angrily, and simply walked ahead of Albel, his steps angry and quick. Albel slowed, watching him. He hadn't meant to let that sentence escape his mouth. He put his hand on his face, feeling the heat from his forehead seep into his glove. He just wasn't feeling too well. If at all possible, his bad moods seem to have gotten worse. Somewhere in his dark heart, he felt guilty for snapping at Fayt. He had a fleeting thought of apologizing, but that was quickly squashed under his bloated ego. Albel Nox, apologize? The end of the world before that, surely. Well, the end of the world had nearly come; the end of their whole universe, actually. He shivered at the thought of the 4-D world. They controlled this universe for so long, with no one knowing. Only Fayt and his companions knew the truth. Albel wished he hadn't even left the planet. If that's what was out there beyond the sky, then Albel wished he had never accompanied them. His simplistic view of the world, 'kill or be killed', was distorted into 'save everyone or save yourself'. Fayt selflessly gave himself to save everyone, but what if Albel had to make that choice?

He gave a soft sigh, watching his breath leave him in a wispy exhale, and turned to enter the shop Fayt had entered.

V

* * *

V 

Fayt put his hand to his chin, frowning. The selection was few, and his pack could barely hold any more items. He wished Albel would allow use of his pack for healing and restorative items, but he insisted on carrying his own stuff, leaving Fayt to carry the necessities. His mood darkened at the thought of the brigade captain. That comment he made was just plain rude. Fayt knew that Albel was moody as of late, and had been attacked, but that did not give him the right to put his comrade down. Fayt was sticking by him, so why did Albel still treat him like dirt?

He sighed, and straightened, pointing out the berries. His coin purse wouldn't be dented; in case a new weapon came out on the guild network, he kept a large sum with him. The inventors sought to raise such ludicrous prices for their masterpieces. Not that Fayt hadn't done the same when he had invented a few things, namely the armor he was using at the moment, filled with defensive boosts and the like. He sorely wished for the technology of Earth, at times; it would make things a bit easier. Oh, to have a vehicle…

A nudge at his side jolted him, and he nearly gasped as Albel's face appeared next to his, looking down at his purchases. "Got everything?"

It was good that Albel wasn't peering closely at him, or he would have seen the blush Fayt was sporting. "U-Uh, yeah…"

"Good." Swiping up the bag of berries, Albel tucked it away in his pack and shuffled out the door. "You coming or what, fool?"

Fayt stared after him, in slight shock. Why had Albel gotten that close to him? And why did he blush at the heat radiating off the warrior? He shook his head to clear it, and paid the amount due to the cashier. And then he realized that Albel had taken the bag. Was he offering his use of his pack; was this his way of apology?

Fayt smiled in understanding. Albel had his ways; it just took some time to translate them. He pushed the door open, noting that Albel had waited for him just outside. "You ready, fool?"

Fayt nodded, sliding his sword a bit higher on his hips. "Let's go." He could forgive Albel. It wasn't his fault; Fayt had the sneaking suspicion that he had been wounded by the creature. That would explain his foul mood, and the need to go out and murder it for even looking at him. But thinking back to the council, Fayt idly wondered why Albel had agreed to go to Aquaria to request assistance. Maybe he was keen on having Nel or Adray a part of this…?

Whatever the reason, Fayt would follow Albel. He had yet to find out what the substance he had found in front of the tavern was made of. And why it so closely resembled the drops of blood Albel had dripped on the floor of the inn that day.

V

* * *

V 

End part 3

Bahhhh, this seems like it'll never get anywhere. It's not quite ready to begin yet, but the good parts have yet to come. I should really work on my other story, but this one has caught my interest… (rubs back of head while nervously smiling) Ah well, I'm quite ready to write something more. Check back soon, Albel's new threat is next chapter!


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